


Closer

by demonessryu



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Awkward Crush, Crushes, Fluff, Freddie is being a good bro to his idiot friends, How do you tag when the person having a crush isn't aware that he has a crush?, M/M, Photo Shoots, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 02:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20574878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonessryu/pseuds/demonessryu
Summary: Brian got restless during a photoshoot. It absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that Roger was positioned far from him.





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to me! I actually wanted to post something longer (and angsty) last week, but got too busy to edit it, so here’s this instead to celebrate both my birthday AND my 100th fic on ao3! That’s older than how I behave and more fics than I thought I’d write! I wrote this weeks ago because Queen almost always ended up a pile of human limbs because they apparently didn’t believe in the concept of personal space, but like 80% of the time Maylor always found their way to be next to each other. Also inspired by Queen in 3-D which I finally received! Thank you, local post office, for not letting me down! This fic assumes photoshoots are noisy. I have no idea. I run at the sight of cameras. If you think I'm too lazy to properly google the names of parts of camera, you're absolutely right.

The camera flashed, a little too close for Brian’s comfort. He tried to keep his eyes open, but wasn’t entirely sure he had succeeded. He blinked rapidly to clear the ghost of the too-bright flash from his vision while the photographer gave his instructions for the next pose. As he shifted and shuffled awkwardly, Brian wished he was behind the camera instead. He wanted to know how his friends looked from behind the lens, arrange them in such a way as to make their personalities shine, take pictures that showed only their best sides, admire them rather than pretending to be an object to be admired. He also rather suspected that it was a little too dark to take proper photos, but it seemed rude to question a professional photographer about his usage of light.

Another flash, another picture taken and they all changed their poses. Brian moved awkwardly, not entirely sure how to convey the image of a rock star that he was meant to project. Freddie and Roger, who had kindly helped him picked his outfits for the photo shoot, had informed him that he looked like a decent guitarist of a rock band. However, picking the right clothes was only half of the work. There was also the pose, the attitude, the image that he wasn’t sure what to do about. Brian looked to his friends, a little helpless. He could tell that they were getting bored, but the promise of fame kept them enduring the treatment. Beside him, Freddie moved this way and that, at ease with himself both on stage and on camera, the perfect performer as always. In front of him, John, who was far more recently inducted into this strange ritual to summon popularity and success but got used to it remarkably fast, tapped into sassiness few expected and many adored. Farthest from him, Roger sighed quietly as the photographer’s assistant arranged his long hair artistically to frame his face, as comfortable as Freddie was to be at the center of attention—and who could blame him when he was a perfect object of photography, impossible to take terrible picture of. Watching him, Brian felt a surge of insecurity that urged him to hide. His height sometimes made him self-conscious, but at times like this he was grateful for it as it allowed him to be in the background.

“Relax, darling. You look like you’re about to snap in half,” Freddie quietly reprimanded him.

Brian smiled weakly to him. “I’m still not used to this,” he admitted.

“It does take a while to get used to,” Freddie agreed calmly. “You’ll get there. Just breathe.”

Brian breathed, but it didn’t really help. He was still unsure of himself, still confused about how to arrange himself to the best effects, something that other people seemed to do naturally. He looked to Roger again, who was making light conversation with the photographer, jokingly demanding him to only take the best pictures of him. Not for the first time, Brian marveled at how easily Roger seemed to adapt to new people and new environments. He was, of the four of them, the most extroverted, having people skill they all could only dream of. It would be very easy for him to steal the spotlight from the rest of them, but he never did, seemingly content with being beside them instead of in front of them, as Brian was very well aware of. Through countable years and uncountable arguments, Roger had steadfastly remained at his side, his constant in the ever changing path of life, as reliable as the earth perpetually spinning on its axis beneath his feet.

Freddie laughed quietly, drawing Brian’s attention back to him. “You act like you’ve never had your pictures taken before.”

“It’s different,” Brian argued. “Usually I just mind my own business when photographed, but here I have to look…” He grasped for words, his eyes falling to Roger again when he tilted his head back to give the camera an impish look Brian was so familiar with. Brian just had enough time to look to the camera before the photographer took another picture. “Cool,” he finished quietly.

Freddie gave him a look of friendly concern. “You are cool.”

Brian chuckled self-depreciatingly. “Right.”

Freddie shifted so that his shoulder bumped onto Brian’s arm. Well, _dug deeper _into Brian’s arm, seeing as they were already quite closely situated to each other. “You _are_,” he insisted. “Your students think so. You _fans _think so.”

“Not as cool as you or Roger.” He glanced at Roger just as the photographer took another picture. His face burnt at the sigh the man let out, knowing without having to look that he had wasted one precious slide. He made sure to keep as still as possible when another picture was taken. “John’s also not bad,” he added, maybe a little belatedly.

Freddie smiled and patted John’s shoulder affectionately, earning a raised eyebrow from John. Any explanation he might try to give was interrupted by the photographer, who took another picture. “No, he isn’t,” he agreed with Brian, then gave him a stern look. “You’re not so bad yourself if you’d let yourself relax. You look like you’re facing a firing squad!”

“Easier said than done, Fred,” Brian sighed. He tried to smile when the photographer next took their picture but had an inkling he looked like he just bared his teeth like a ridiculously angry cat.

To Brian, a photographer might as well be a firing squad when one was as awkward in his own skin as Brian was. Standing there in front of camera he usually held with confidence, he felt too exposed. He looked hopefully when Roger moved about, but shrank in disappointment when Roger stayed put instead of moving toward him or turning to him. Brian tried to hide behind Freddie, but his discomfort didn’t dissipate. He wished he had thought to ask some advices from Roger earlier—he always seemed to know how to best handle being the center of attention, even though he imparted his knowledge by way of angry argument. He always knew what to do, always knew when to draw the attention to himself when Brian was overcome.

“Oh, for the love of… Brian, dear, do you want to switch places with me?” Freddie asked loudly.

Brian looked at him in surprise. The photographer paused, then shrugged to indicate he didn’t mind, while Roger and John looked at him expectantly. Quickly noting their positions, Brian nodded. “Sure.”

A quick repositioning later and Roger and Freddie were on either side of him. He surveyed the new space he now occupied and smiled when Roger sent him a curious look. There was no word spoken, but sometimes they didn’t need any—years of friendship and fights ensuring that they knew each other as well as they knew the backs of their hands. In that look, there was a friendly “alright?” and with a smile (Brian hoped) he answered “I am now.” He patted Roger’s back lightly to remind him to face forward again, earning himself a quiet huff as Roger shifted back toward him, protecting him from the judgmental glare of the imaginary audience behind the camera. Brian exhaled slowly as his tense muscles unwound.

“For fuck’s sake,” Brian thought he heard Freddie muttered, but the photographer was already directing them.

Roger turned his head slightly to Brian’s direction. He didn’t look, but his whisper was only for Brian’s ear. “Just breathe.”

Brian did and smiled widely when the camera shutter clicked shut.

**Author's Note:**

> Brian stealing glances at Roger will be the death of me. [For example](https://demonessryu.tumblr.com/post/186904472199/maylor). (No, I don’t think they’re real, but it’s still bloody amusing.)
> 
> For now I can still be found on [tumblr](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/) where my fanworks never show up on the proper tag(s).


End file.
